


I am packing my bag

by tshjortile



Category: Bakuten Shoot Beyblade, Beyblade
Genre: Gen, Hiwatari family dynamics, mother-son-relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:20:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25225963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tshjortile/pseuds/tshjortile
Summary: When Susumu left them, she hated the childish toys he left them for with an intensity that made the pit of her stomach boil in anger. It only lasted for a moment. Then the moment passed, and she remembered that she was not alone in watching him leave. Their son clung to her hand, confused, afraid.
Relationships: Hiwatari Kai & Hiwatari Misaki, Hiwatari Kai & Hiwatari Souichirou | Voltaire Hiwatari
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	I am packing my bag

**Author's Note:**

> Misaki is absent in the Anime, but ever-present in the background in the Beyblade Manga as well as Rising. Enjoy my take on her and her relationship with Kai!

**1992**

When Susumu left them, she hated the childish toys he left them for with an intensity that made the pit of her stomach boil in anger.

It only lasted for a moment. Then the moment passed, and she remembered that she was not alone in watching him leave. Their son clung to her hand, confused, afraid. Misaki breathed, in and out, and straightened up.

“Do you want me to read you a story?”, she asked, crouching down to meet him at his height. The smile she forced onto her lips stopped feeling wrong the moment Kai smiled back at her.

**1993**

“Let’s play a game!”, his daughter-in-law’s voice made him slow his steps directed towards the study. The door stood slightly ajar, an invitation that was none. He peeked, and saw Misaki’s back and his grandson looking down at a piece of paper.

“Yes yes yes!”, Kai enthusiastically cheered. Misaki drew something he could not see, explaining: “The game is called ‘I’m packing my bag’. It’s pretty simple: We draw everything in there you always want to take with you”

Kai kneeled down besides his mother and thought hard. “But Okaa-chan won’t fit onto a piece of paper!”, he pointed out in earnest, which lead Misaki to put one arm around his shoulders. She pulled him into a brief hug, wiped away some tears. “You’re right, Kai”, she confirmed. It had been difficult to convince her that it was best to hand her son into his care. Soichiro was slightly impressed how she kept her countenance. Saying goodbye must be hard.

“Maybe we’ll think of something else then!”, Misaki sent Kai an encouraging smile. “What else do you always want to have with you?”

“Dranzer!”, the five-year-old prompted without thinking about it. Soichiro saw a slight tremble go through Misaki. She wiped her eyes again, pulled her shoulders back. “Then we’re drawing Dranzer on here!”, she decided. Kai took a felt pen and gave it to her. “You have to draw the beyblade”, he decided. “I’ll color it!”

They worked in silence for a while, bent over the piece of paper. Misaki’s left arm moved, her son right next to her colored what she drew.

“What else should be put into our bag?”, Soichiro heard her ask quietly after a while.

“Clothes?”

“We’ve already packed your favorites, don’t worry. What I mean are precious things”

“Then I’ll take babushka’s shawl!”

“Her shawl?”

“Yes, because it’s thaaat long and fluffy!”, Kai jumped up, opened his little arms as far as he could to show the scarf’s length. Soichiro heard Misaki laugh quietly. “Okay, then. Do you want to draw it?”

Kai probably nodded; Soichiro could not see it from his position. Misaki continued with her next question: “And what should I draw in the meantime?”

„Suzaku!“

Soichiro raised his head. Could Kai see the holy beast?

“What does Suzaku look like?”, Misaki’s voice brought Soichiro back to reality. “Like a Suzaku!”, Kai explained as if it was obvious. Misaki made a noise, thinking aloud. “Does Suzaku look like a cat?”, she asked. Her son laughed a jolly laugh. “No, not at all!”, he answered.

Soichiro felt the corners of his mouth rise. Kai at times reminded him of his son when he was little.

“Does Suzaku look like a dog?”, Misaki asked again.

“No, okaa-chan!”, Kai laughed again. “Suzaku is a  _ bird _ !”

“A bird? Well… and what color does Suzaku have?”, Misaki asked, again. Kai, however, seemed to have grown tired of her questions. “You know what? You cannot draw Suzaku, because you have never seen them!”, he determined. “I’ll draw Suzaku and you’ll draw babushka’s shawl!”

Misaki did not respond to that, and they grew quiet. They must be immersed in the picture they were painting. Soichiro shook his head while he continued the way to his study like he originally intended. A long distance call with Volkov waited for him. They were to go over the last details of Kai’s stay at Volkov’s institution.

“Kuro Suzaku is at its finishing touches”, Volkov’s distorted voice explained in English, the strong Russian accent impossible to ignore. Soichiro nodded in grim satisfaction. “What about the blade?”, he harshly inquired. The phone line cracked when his business partner spoke. “It’s ready”

“You already promised me that once, Volkov. I hope you keep your word this time”, Soichiro snarled. Volkov was somewhat dubious: he had already lied to him once; who knew what else he kept from him.

“After your son left the project our development team struggled, but we made use of the additional time”, Volkov explained. “The concepts he left were enough to develop an improved model on our own that outshines the beyblades on the market by a decade. We’ve reached the last machine testing phase, and the results look highly promising”

Soichiro nodded again, letting out a satisfied hum. “Did you send me the reports like I asked?”

“You will receive our reports within the next week”, Volkov promised. “I already sent them on their way. The messenger will come from your Russian branch”

Soichiro remembered seeing a request by an employee in the Moscow branch, who had applied to the training course they offered in the Japanese headquarters. These practices were not unknown to Soichiro; ever since the fall of the Soviet Union this way of information transfer had been decisive for his Russian branch’s continued existence. After all, he had invested a lot of money, time and nerves to build the branch back after Soviet Russia had ceased to exist.

“Good”

Soichiro was satisfied. While Volkov may have been of dubious character, their partnership had persisted for some time now. He knew what to expect from the Russian, which was one of the reasons he trusted him with as many responsibilities as he did after his son had left.

“Which brings me to the second reason for our conversation, Mr. Hiwatari”, Volkov steered their phone call to a different direction. “As we already concluded, your grandson is talented enough to wield Kuro Suzaku and the blade. This, however, has to be carefully trained”

Soichiro frowned. They had gone over this for what felt like a million times already! “Kai is saying good-bye to his mother as we speak. He will be in Moscow in two days’ time. I personally will bring him to Volk Abbey.”

They spent the rest of the phone call figuring out the logistics of the trip. Kai would officially be enrolled to Volkov’s institution as a student, he would be trained to be a professional beyblader. Soichiro had requested the training schedules some time ago; he had given it to a trusted source, who had confirmed that the training would deliver the expected results.

Soichiro had big plans for his grandson. His business partner would train Kai, forge him into one of, if not the world’s most powerful blader. At the same time he did not completely trust Volkov. There was an underlying threat in his words directed at the Russian: he still wanted to make the right choice for his grandson.

Little after, Soichiro again stopped in front of the door that led to Kai’s room. It had not been moved and still stood slightly ajar. This time he did not linger, but entered without knocking. His daughter-in-law, who was contemporarily his personal assistant, turned around. “Is it time already?”, she bashfully asked. Kai’s wide-eyed glance went from him to his mother. He didn’t seem to know what to do. Soichiro nodded without a word and watched as Misaki’s expression hardened. She did not agree to Kai being trained by Volkov. She took a deep breath, her eyes lowered to the picture she and Kai had drawn for the past hour.

“There’s something important missing here, Kai”, she then pointed out softly. The five year old looked at her questioningly. Misaki smiled; Soichiro could not gather this impression from her stance, but from the sound of her voice directed to his grandson. “Our names!”, she then clarified. Kai smiled and nodded. He took a pen and wrote sloppy hiragana; first a “ka”, then an “i”, just like he had practiced in preschool. Misaki nodded, then added her own name as well as the year. She smiled at her son, watched him deep in thought.

“Kai, your mother has to go now”, Soichiro intervened, disturbed the moment they had. Misaki stood up. Kai looked up to her, his eyes full of concern, struggled to get up and hugged her legs.

Misaki’s shoulders trembled shortly. Then she straightened up, wiped her eyes with her index finger, and straightened up again. She slightly shook her head and seemed to have composed herself. For a moment, Soichiro admired his daughter-in-law. But the moment passed. “I have to go now, I have to get back to the office”, she explained to her son, who nodded.

**2001**

The next time she saw, she actually, really saw her son, was at court, when he took the witness stand and looked small and pale and fragile. Hiwatari Soichiro had flooded her with responsibilities until she felt like she drowned in the paperwork her job required - personal assistant to the CEO of Hiwatari Corporation. There was no time to see her son, to really see him, and Soichiro had assured her that Kai was okay. She had been too tired to ask any further questions. That had been a mistake, she realised while she looked at the child that seemed to have grown up all of a sudden.

She was seated right behind Hiwatari Soichiro. His lawyer was making an effort to convince the judge that his client did not know one thing about Volkov’s plans. He would probably succeed, too. Misaki was well aware of his case preparations.

When he finished, Kai shot a look that passed Hiwatari Soichiro. He saw her, his crimson eyes meeting hers, and for a moment time stopped. Misaki forced a smile. Kai didn’t respond to it, looked away. Misaki straightened up, bleakly stared into Hiwatari Soichiro’s back while her insides boiled with rage. She never hated him more than in this moment.

She was approached by Daitenji-san as she waited to meet - to really meet - her son after a day that already felt too long. Behind him lingered four teenagers who seemed uneasy; as if they did not know how to behave. They were a colorful squad and seemed genuinely worried about Kai however. Misaki was thankful for that; she knew who they were, she had seen them on the sports news. They were the Bladebreakers, the team Kai played for. She had seen how they treated him, had seen that they appreciated her son, cared for him. She thought Kai cared for them, too, even though little gave that away.

It didn’t take long, and Kai approached their little group. He was in the company of four other children. They had given statements just like him, and now quietly talked among themselves in Russian. Misaki, who had spent a lot of time in the Russian branch of the company, overheard murmurs of an “orphanage”, “therapy”, “stay here” and “together”. Kai looked as tired as she felt; the other children seemed to feel the same. All of them looked way too old to only be aged between twelve and fourteen. She straightened up, met Kai halfway. His group came to a halt. Kai glanced at the group behind her, then at the red head he had been talking to. The Russian children seemed stiff. Misaki forced herself to smile, while her heart broke.

She wanted to greet her son, she wanted to hug him, she wanted - 

“Kai”, she breathed his name, called the boy in front of her, who felt familiar but alien at the same time, without touching him. She took half a step, but stopped in the middle of moving when he bluntly stared at her. She then realised that they had a lot of work to do, and moved back, lowered her arms she had opened to close around him. She gulped down her questions like the lump in her throat. “Do you remember me?”, she asked, smiling softly. Just like she had prepared with the family psychologist, just like she had practiced in front of the mirror until it felt natural even if it was not.

Kai looked at her deep in thought before giving a slight nod. Misaki felt how a heavy weight was lifted from her shoulders. She took a deep breath. “Daitenji-san told me that you like to listen to music”, she then addressed the whole group in Russian. The four Russian children looked at her, alarm written over their faces, like they were not used to an adult not yelling at them. She fought down the rage boiling hot in her stomach, rage directed at her father-in-law, at his dreadful business partner, at the many grown-ups who now pleaded that they only had gone along with what was ordered. She hid her emotion by lowering her head. She searched her bag for the cassette she always carried along with her. Once she found it, she gave it to Kai. “You always liked it when I hummed Ziggy Stardust”, she informed him with a wink, her eyes brushing over the blue paint on his cheeks he had repainted after taking the witness stand. “Something tells me you may still like his music”

Kai looked at her for a long moment. Then he closed his fingers around the mix cassette and nodded.

**2002**

Kai watched her as she tried to wrap her mind around a table full of numbers that described the components that were used to fabricate beyblade parts. She was sitting opposite to him at the kitchen table. Her flat was big enough for her and Kai as her son only lived with her during holidays. Misaki felt his eyes on her and felt bad because she had brought this home from work. She sighted. “I’m sorry”, she said. “We have a meeting with our developers and the numbers just don’t add up. Somebody made a mistake and I just can’t find it”

“You’re in charge now?”, Kai looked at her surprised. Misaki nodded. “I’ve been in charge for a while now; somebody had to do it. I’ve worked for the company for more than fifteen years now, I can’t let it go down like this”

It had not been clear for how long Hiwatari Soichiro would be in jail. Misaki had felt relieved, even though this meant that she had to take over and work even more to replace her boss. She was relieved because it meant she had time to get to know her son again without having to immediately deal with her father-in-law.

Kai raised a brow at her, which reminded Misaki of said father-in-law. “Do you even, like, know about beyblades?”, he skeptically inquired.

She suppressed the association that caused the burning feeling of rage in her insides, straightened up. “I know enough, but not enough for a developer meeting. Not that the company cared”, she grimaced and noted down a question mark next to a column she wanted to discuss with the other employees. They sat in silence for a while. Kai had his headphones on, his walkman was on the table. Misaki heard the quiet melody of  _ Space Oddity _ and smiled.

Suddenly, Kai stood up, his stool scratching over the floor; it startled Misaki. Kai, however, came to stand by her side, pointed to one row on her spreadsheets. “This can’t be right”, he pointed out, “the numbers don’t make any sense with these materials used”

The way Kai said it reminded Misaki of Hiwatari Soichiro when he closed a deal. She frowned, willing herself to forget her last thought, and concentrated on the numbers instead. “You’re right”, she took up another spreadsheet to compare the values. “This defense ring should be lighter if we used this alloy. This has to be the mistake!”

She let out a sigh of relief and looked at her son who sat down again in front of her. Once he looked at her, she cleared her throat. “There is something I have to tell you”, Misaki explained after looking for the right words for a while. Kais expression showed that he was expecting the worst. Maybe it was the worst that could happen, Misaki thought before continuing. “Your grandfather’s lawyer told me that their appeal is going to be decided by the end of next month. Your grandfather will probably be acquitted”, she informed Kai who slowly nodded.

She had met the lawyer countless times to talk strategy on how to set Hiwatari Soichiro free. It had been a lot of work to find the one solution that would not allow Soichiro to touch Kai again. Misaki forced a smile and failed. “The court will rule that your grandfather will have to regularly take psychological assessments and go to family therapy. This means that we will meet him once a week”, she continued, “I even found a psychologist that’s not-”

Kai’s stool fell over with a loud noise. “I don’t want to have anything to do with him”, he hissed, his fists tight balls, each fiber of his body tense. Misaki met his eyes. “I know”, she quietly reassured her son who she heard grit his teeth. “He gave me to Volkov!”, Kai retorted; his voice trembled due to his suppressed rage. Misaki took a deep breath, and another, in the effort to keep calm. She met his eyes again, read his emotions. “That’s why we have to talk about it. Together and with a professional who gives us an outside perspective. I have carefully thought this through, Kai”, she explained.

Kai took a deep breath, and another, and another. Then he pulled himself together, took his chair and sat down again. Her heart broke at his grown-up behavior. He had every right to slam doors and storm out of the room. Misaki cleared her throat. “There’s something else. I am going to sell the Russian branch as well as the old estate in the city”, she started, this time softer. “Daitenji-san was looking for sponsors for Mrs. Golubeva’s orphanage. I decided that the money should be used for that. I want to use it that the other boys who were in Volkov’s institution will have a good life”

Kai stiffened when she mentioned Volkov’s name, but he stayed where he was. His hands he had laid on the table, clenched into fists. Misaki reached out to touch him, but he flinched. She took back her hand to her side of the table.

“They will have everything”, she promised. Kai breathed loudly - in and out, in and out. It took Misaki a moment to realise that he was doing the breathing exercises the therapist had showed him. She forgot about her concern for a moment, because she was so proud of her son.

**2003**

She had put off entering the estate for almost too long. She had last set foot into the mansion roughly ten years ago; the memory of saying her goodbyes to Kai still felt like an open wound.

Misaki took a deep breath, straightened up and glanced at Kai, who had done the same. They had waited until the new year, and snow covered the lawn. Kai wore his babushka’s white scarf; he seemed not too eager to be here, in front of the family estate that had been empty for the past ten years. Misaki got it.

“You ready?”, she smiled at him. He looked deeply skeptical. “Why do you even need me here? It’s not like there are companies doing stuff like this way better than we could”, he huffed, behaving like the teenager he was for a change.

MIsaki smiled at him. “Some things we have to do ourselves. There are documents that are supposed to go to our firm’s archives that are delicate. That’s why I’ll have to clear out the study myself.” He sent her a look that meant as much as ‘And why do you need me here, of all people?’. She winked at him playfully. “Since you’re on holiday, I thought it would be the perfect chance for us to spend time together before you run off to Kinomiya-kun again”

Kai rolled his eyes and buried his hands in his pockets. Finally, Misaki added: “And then I thought that maybe there’s something in your old room you may want”

“As if”, Kai spat out, “I have not been back in over three years.” Then he murmured something in Russian too quietly for Misaki to understand, and put on his headphones. Misaki heard bits of the melody of  _ Rebel Rebel _ , and then he had disappeared into the mansion. She saw him walk through the house he had called home, reach his door and enter his old room.

Misaki herself headed for the opposite direction, to Soichiro’s study, to pack up her firm’s documents. He had left her detailed instructions on how to deal with each class of documents in the study. There were the old financial records destined for the firm’s archives, then there were documents he wanted moved to another apartment as he thought they were still of some importance for his personal business contacts. Then there were the ones that would be destroyed.

She approached her task as the pragmatic she was: She had left this house over ten years ago, after Soichiro had strongly suggested that Kai would be better off with him then with a  _ divorced woman _ . She felt her insides boil at the memory of his snide remark. However, she was raised the traditional way, and was expected to act accordingly. So she had lowered her head and tried not to disgrace her family. That had been a mistake, she knew now.

She progressed quickly, as Hiwatari Soichiro had a special filing system on and around his desk. It did not take too long to sort through the documents into different boxes destined for pick-up later that evening. What was left in the end were a few documents that did not fit into Soichiro’s filing system. Misaki had a look at each of them to decide what to do with it. Right at the top was a transcript of record from Kai’s first school in England; his behavior was described as rebellious in a comment, his grades had worsened by the end of the last trimester. Misaki did not know what had happened back then; Kai did not talk about what was on his mind, and Misaki had had to accept it. She put the transcript aside. Next up was a contract with a researcher Misaki had never heard of on a project called “Chimera”. She browsed through it, recognised her father-in-law’s doing in the conditions. When she reached the last page, she paused. The contract had never been signed. Misaki furrowed her brows and took a mental note to look into this.

At the bottom was a folded sheet of paper. It’s edges were worn, it was blotchy and old, there was a dog-ear. Somebody must have opened and folded it again many times. She unfolded it slowly, cautiously, straightened the paper as well as she could. 

When she recognised the picture she felt like an invisible blow had stripped her of all air in her lungs: right in front of her was the picture of a suitcase, a child had painted across the lines of the shapes, smeared a little color here and there. In the right-hand corner were the hiragana for “Ka” and “i” as well as her own name and the year 1993. There was a lump in her throat and a lump in her stomach that felt hot and cold both at the same time. Misaki covered her mouth with her hand, as she feared to make a treacherous noise. Here eyes burned, and it took her a few attempts to swallow away the lump in her throat.

Kai came to find her later, a rolled-up poster under his arm, to let her know that he did not want to spend any more minutes than absolutely necessary. Until then, she had composed herself.

**2004**

“Do you remember the game we played when you were little?”, Misaki looked at her son seated at their kitchen table. The teenager had rested his head on his crossed arms and watched her from crimson eyes. He thought about her question for a moment, then shrugged.

“Not at all? What a pity. It was a lot of fun”, Misaki smiled.

Kai had become silent, and surly, and taciturn since he had left his grandfather’s influence. She didn’t expect Kai to remember the game; she had resigned herself to the circumstance that he did not remember much of his childhood. Misaki looked at her son, who seemed as uninvolved as ever.

“Scoot”, she advised her son who leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, sceptically watching her doings. She placed a sheet of paper on the table, placed felt pens besides it. Then she took one of the pens and drew the outlines of an open suitcase on it. She did not spend enough time with Kai. Leading Hiwatari Quality had turned out to be a full-time job.

Kai furrowed his brows, thought hard. Then he loosened his stance and looked at her. “I’m packing my bag?”, he quietly asked, as if unsure of his treacherous memory. His tone almost tore Misaki’s heart to pieces, but she kept up the front and nodded. “Exactly”, she warmly smiled. “What do you  _ always _ take with you?”

“Dranzer”, Kai answered without thinking. He paused before bringing his hand up to his mouth to cover it. He looked at her like a deer in the headlight. Misaki silently laughed and handed her son one of the felt pens. “Do you want to draw your beyblade or may I?”, she asked. Kai’s eyes lingered on her before he reached for the violet pen to take it from her. He then held out a blue colored one. “You do you”, he mumbled casually.

She tried to remember what a beyblade looked like - it had just been too long since she last had held one in her hand! Meanwhile, she questioned further: “What else?”

“Suzaku”, Kai answered just as fast as before, but his words sounded more like a question. “But Suzaku is more part of the beyblade, I don’t know if that counts”

Misaki paused to think. “Is Suzaku, though? Can you make use of your blade without Suzaku?”

Kai hesitantly shrugged. “You can use a beyblade without the holy beast; their energy is channeled in the blade, you know. That’s a pretty good advantage in a bey battle”

Misaki nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t know much about holy beasts, but for me that sounds like Suzaku earned themselves a drawing on their own”, she announced. Her own drawing looked weird, really; beyblades had never been her kind of thing. Kai moved shortly, then Dranzer rolled into her field of vision. Misaki smiled at Kai, who just shook his hand as if he did not believe what he had to work with. “You really have no clue of blades, do you?”

“When you were little that did not matter”, Misaki shrugged. “It really always has been your father’s passion, you know”

Kai watched her closely, like he always did when she spoke of Susumu. Those moments were rare. He quickly averted his gaze when he found her smiling at him. Misaki finished the drawing and took up a different shade of blue to color it. It was a terrible picture, really. She almost could not make out the shape of a beyblade. “It was not so long ago that I talked to him, you know”, she mentioned, trying to sound casually.

Kai had started to absentmindedly jolt down something in reds and oranges. He looked up, gazing at her. “What did he say?”

Misaki shrugged. “Many things I don’t want to repeat. We’ll meet up again soon, though”

She could see that Kai was torn between wanting to see his father and feeling stupid to want it. After a short break she made clear: “I want to see him alone for now, but if everything turns out alright, I’d like to take you, too, if you want to”

Kai nodded slowly while he processed the new information.

They were quiet for a while, drawing, coloring. When Misaki finished the beyblade, she stole a look at what Kai had been working on. It probably should have resembled a bird, which it faintly did. She chuckled. “I see that you get your talent from your mother”, she joked. Kai quietly chuckled; it reminded Misaki of his father. “The apple does not fall far from its tree”, he cautiously remarked.

Misaki winked. Then she let out a breath, looking over the piece of paper. “So tomorrow you’ll be off to Russia”, she mentioned. Thinking about the country that had brought him so much sorrow hurt.

“Tomorrow”, Kai confirmed.

“What team will you be playing for?”

Kai took out his phone, typed something. “They are called Neoborg”, he explained without looking up from the small screen. He seemed to look for something, and when he found it he turned the screen around to show her a picture of his future teammates. To Misaki they felt oddly familiar. She gazed at them with narrowed eyes. Then the redhead struck a familiar note. “Could it be-?”, she looked up to see her son nod.

“It’s Volkov’s - the Demolition Boys”, he confirmed. “They want to play again”

Misaki nodded absentmindedly, remembering the bunch of haggard children she had seen in court two years ago. She felt anger boil in the pit of her stomach while details from the hearing slowly came back. Volkov had pulled children through cadet training school curricula that were intended for special forces training - adults! Her heart had broken into a million pieces; it still hurt. She clenched her fist around the blue pen.

A hand found hers, tentatively squeezing. When she looked up Kai met her gaze. “I saw their prelims”, he told her. Misaki nodded. Apparently they had convinced Kai. Her stomach felt queasy, coming from boiling heat to cold desperation; the last time she had drawn a picture like this with Kai it had been Soichiro to send Kai to Russia. This time she had supported him, helped him collect everything necessary to obtain a temporary visa. What if he wanted to stay?

“Did you talk to Kinomiya-kun about it?”, she asked. She knew that they were friends, that they were supposed to represent Japan as a team in the upcoming world tournament. Kai silently crossed his arms too tightly in front of his chest.

Misaki realised that she needed to take a different approach; she pointed to the piece of paper lying between them. “What else do you want to take?”, she asked. Kai did not think long. “I’ll need my starter, a rip chord and spare parts”, he listed almost automatically and scrawled something resembling a starter, if one squinted. Misaki chuckled. “I did not expect any different from you. What else?”

This time, Kai thought for a bit longer. “Babushka’s shawl”, he jolted down a grey outline of a cloth in the wind. He looked so much like a distant memory - Misaki wanted to pull him into a tight hug, to soothe her aching chest.

The moment passed. She breathed, in and out, and straightened up, looked at Kai. “What else do you want me to draw?”

Her sixteen-year-old son looked at her thoughtfully. “My walkman”, he then decided. Misaki drew a rectangle with a play button.

“What are you listening to at the moment?” It had been a while since she had last seen him with headphones on his ears. Kai shrugged. “This and that”, he answered, before adding an almost inaudible “Bowie”.

A smile tugged at her lips. “When I was young I totally had a crush on him”, she winked at him mischievously. “I was  _ infinitely  _ heartbroken when he came out!”

This coaxed out a smile. “He’s cool. I like his music”, Kai admitted and watched her draw a blurred cassette and a humanoid scrawl. Her son pointed to the latter: “This really does not look like David Bowie”

“You’re right”, Misaki briefly stared at it before taking a blue pen to draw the shape of a blue lightning over the scribble’s face. “Now he’s Ziggy Stardust”, she decided.

Kai laughed and Misaki felt a pang because it reminded her so much of Susumu. She breathed, in and out, and smiled.

**2008**

“There’s really no sense for you to stay here, father”, Misaki implored her superior and CEO of Hiwatari Quality. Hiwatari Soichiro was seated across from her, his eyes fixed on the sugar free, diabetes-friendly cookies in front of him as if they could harm him. Misaki breathed, in and out, and straightened up. She had been working too long as his personal assistant not to know that indeed he was listening.

“You already have fallen twice, it’s too dangerous”, she started, more concerned. “Either we find a geriatric nurse to stay the night and look after you or-”

Soichiro glared at her. “I don’t need any nurses”, he angrily hissed. Misaki reluctantly pursed her lips. “It’s for the best”, she explained what felt like the millionth time without getting through to him.

“That’s what my grandson is for”, Soichiro insisted, using his landlord voice that felt like a thunder rolling over Misaki’s head. She flinched, but met his glare. “No, he is not”, she disagreed. Her father-in-law looked pleasingly irritated. “He’s studying and learning and will definitely not stop his life to take care of you”

Silence unfurled between them. Misaki realised that she had to change her approach to make headway. She breathed, in and out, and straightened up, pulling out her contingency plan. “I could take care of you, father. Kai spends most of his time in England, after all, and I have too much space just for myself. I want to live up to my role as your daughter-in-law after all, father”

**2009**

“Don’t forget to take your pills, father”

Misaki’s worried glance felt like a suffocating blanket. Soichiro nodded in an air of slight annoyance, and rolled his eyes at his daughter-in-law. He was old, but in good shape. He was neither senile nor did he shit his diapers - not that he wore any.

“Remember what the doctor said: one after dinner, one for breakfast”, the woman supplied before she raised her index finger. “And no booze!”

Soichiro rolled his eyes.

“This is serious”, his daughter-in-law urged, again, before turning to check her outfit one last time in the hallway mirror. “You know what happened the last time you mixed booze and pills”

Soichiro made a non-committal noise in his throat and tried to not think about the mishap when he had drowned a scotch on the rocks after dinner. He was neither senile nor did he shit his diapers - not that he wore any! Soichiro willed a more amicable expression onto his features when she finally slipped into her coat.

“Have a good night”, he coaxed out. His daughter-in-law’s eyes flew over him before she shook her head and reached for her scarf. It was white and soft and long enough that its ends moved with every step. Soichiro was reminded of his dead wife - and of his grandson.

Through the door came a cold gust of wind smelling of snow, and she was gone with one last “Good night!”. Soichiro breathed, in and out. Finally!

“This woman is a pain”, he grumbled while he swung his cane, turning towards the study. “As if I did not know how to take care of myself”

He tried to look at the bright side: She was gone, for now, and he would have time to double-check the contracts Kai had sent from London in the past week.

The door to his study was closed and locked by key - a key Soichiro did not have. He still tried to open the door, but it did not move one bit. He snarled. He swore. “This God-awful woman”

She had really done it, gone ahead and locked the door to his study just as she had threatened. It was only for his best, she had argued, like she did not want him to step into an early grave. He snarled, again. Work had never worn him down as much as this woman did!

No matter how hard he stared, how desperately he tried to open the door through sheer power of will: it did not move. What was he supposed to do now to spend his evening?

“I am too young to go to bed early”, Soichiro told the closed door, even though it did not have any effect. He looked around. Behind him lied the shared living space. To the left were his, Misaki’s and Kai’s rooms.

His daughter-in-law’s house was smaller than the mansion; it was warmer, more comfortable. His resistance had been minimal when she had asked him to move in with her. “Why don’t you move in, she said”, he mumbled Misaki’s words. “The mansion always has been too big, father, she said. I have so much space, father. I could take better care of you, she said”

A sigh escaped him. He did not miss the rude, greedy pack of thieves, the mansion’s dafty halls or the always-just-too-cold, always-empty rooms that were nothing but homes for dusty memories. It was rather the opposite; moving had been a relief financially. Even though he did not want to admit it, the mansion would have been a challenge to maintain with compensation payments to the Russian children. Not that he had wanted to maintain it, really. With his new living arrangements, Soichiro saved quite a lot of money on staff, cleaning, and housing costs. What spited him, however, was that by moving in with his daughter-in-law for her to be able to better take care of him, he conceded to his age.

He a cold gust of air. Soichiro pursed his lips as he felt the echo of a back ache. “Did she leave a window open again?”, he grumbled to the empty space in front of him. As the house could not answer his query, he readjusted the grip on his cane and walked slowly towards the origin of the daft.

Misaki had proven her worth numerous times. When he had been in detention awaiting trial it had been her to steer Hiwatari Quality to safer waters. She had been the reason for the firm’s continued success. Even though he rarely let it show, Soichiro appreciated this kind of quiet expertice.

Soichiro shook his head. It was Kai’s room where the window was an open gap, letting in the crisp winter air. He clicked his tongue. How careless, he thought and stepped in to close the window.

When he turned around, he saw a - something in the dark. Soichiro went to turn on the light and paused. It was hung in a plain wooden black frame next to the hideous poster of Bowie in his Stardust attire Kai had already had on the wall of his room in the mansion: a drawing of a suitcase with a barely recognizable blotch of color that may have been a beyblade and the outlines of a red bird that seemed to be on fire.


End file.
